


The Deep Breath Before the Plunge

by amphiprioninae



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Badass!Historia, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Manga Spoilers, domestic life, training corps girlfriends, will tag characters as they appear, ymir has a jealousy problem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:25:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1793677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amphiprioninae/pseuds/amphiprioninae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An account of Ymir and Christa's relationship throughout the canon era told through a series of connected, non-chronological one hundred 500-1000 word drabbles. </p><p>Mainly Ymir's POV, but eventually some Christa POV too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Justifiable Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Ymir suddenly realizes that those butterflies are a bit more persistent than she wants them to be, and has a bit of a crisis.

When the world comes down upon you, you don’t bother to indulge in things that are tenuous at best. At least, not me, after all I’ve fought for, I’m never going back to that time where all I wanted was a semblance of humanity, even an illusion of control. Yet, here I am, trudging through the snow beside her. Blonde hair glistens against the sun, snowflakes catching in her flaxen hair and illuminating it in a halo of soft silver light. My heart is beating rapidly in my chest as I attempt to find the breath that has been stolen from me, but all I can do is pray for the butterflies who have been caught in her net to quiet down, or die. Dying would be preferable.

“Ymir?” Christa’s honey-sweet voice dragged me from my thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Are you too cold? Your face is all red,” she blinked up at me innocently, stealing whatever answer I was going to give her from my throat.

“I- I- I…” I stuttered. _Fucking butterflies_.

“Let’s head back to the dorms where you can warm up,” Christa said as she began heading back to the girl’s dorm, not staying around for the subject to be up for debate.

I trailed behind her as she made her dainty way through the snow drifts, the sun catching her figure and drenching her cloaked form in golden light and hoar that gleamed like diamonds. All of a sudden it felt like everything had been sucked from my body, I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t move, and the tinkling butterflies became a storm of assailants on my stomach, my chest, my mouth. It felt as if the world was humming and all because this beautiful princess was walking away from me, soaked in jeweled light. Just as I thought the butterflies would pierce through my skin and finally, mercifully, release me into death, they died down into a painful ache, retreating back into the caverns of my stomach; leaving nothing but the fiery burns of their touches upon my heart and the dull ache that had deemed itself a necessary companion to my dinners.

What am I doing? I can’t have her. I fought to bring myself back to this world, I can’t give this hard won life away so easily. I can’t just sit and pine like a dog for his master when I have risen above that. All those days, blurring together, nightmare after waking nightmare, I can’t forget that, as much as I desire to. This gold-cloaked creatue? She’s a pure being, I can’t corrupt her with my nightmare. I can’t give away this life I fought so hard for just for some other variable that will leave me crawling upon the ground, begging those nonexistent gods to give her to me. I can’t do that. No.

“Ymir!” Christa shouted at me, voice just barely raised above her normal tone, but it heaved me from my own monologue. She looked at me confused and I realized I’d stopped moving entirely and was staring at her, mouth agape, just starting to drool. _Brilliant, Ymir._

“Uh- I- Uh…” I couldn’t even save myself with words, the fuck did those fucking butterflies do to my throat.

A sweet tinkling assailed my ears like a balm and a warm, gloved hand fitted itself into mine as I kept staring open-mouthed into Christa’s sapphire blue eyes as she started to tug my large body along.

It’s a sin to corrupt a princess, especially this princess. At least it should be.

“I’m not that cold,” I muttered the moment I found my breath, anything to keep me from close quarters with her. I needed time to think, time to kill these stupid fucking butterflies

“Well now you’re not, you’re moving.”

In other words, my complaints were not to be acknowledged.

Birds twittered and creatures from all around made themselves at home around us as Christa towed me along back to the dorms. This girl is so sweet she’s a complete anomaly to the rest of the world, even if it is forced, she emits it naturally. Shit, she could probably even tame a titan. I stopped dead as I considered my words.

 _She could probably even tame a titan? She already has_.

Christa’s confused face looked up to my freckled one. She’s a princess of a woman and I’m just a fairy tale witch, this is a sin in every possible way. Yet, as much as I desperately wanted to cling to my determination to live for myself, I began to realize that option had disappeared the moment the butterflies appeared, caught in her net. The only thing holding me back is her own corruption. But I’m a selfish bitch, I’ve always been one, and when you’re selfish, some sins can become justifiable.

“Ymir, are you sure you’re ok? You’re acting strange.”

I grinned at her as I said, “everything’s ok, stop worrying. Let’s get back to the dorms.”

The ache in my gut began to lift free as I allowed her to continue hauling me across the snowy hill. I felt lighter than I had in ages.

 


	2. An Unfamiliar Landscape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic Life

The sunlight filtered through the paned windows, spilling onto the floor in stripes. My eyes were sticky and my mouth was fuzzy as I blinked rapidly waking in the soft feather bed, wrapped in the thick white comforter.

“Mama Mir?” a small voice asked.

“Mama Mir is still sleeping Alaric,” I replied drowsily to the tiny dark haired boy who an inch away from my face, royal blue eyes blinking innocently into my chocolate ones.

“Mama Mir, I can’ fin’ mommy.”

“I’m sure she’s gotta be around here somewhere,” I said, stretching as I started to get up. “Why don’t we go check the kitchen?”

“Okay Mama Mir,” Alaric said, holding his arms up for me to pick him up.

Scooping up the little boy, we began our adventure down the hall, across smooth wooden floors and pathways of sunlight. Frames containing a conglomeration of prints and paintings of our little trio hang all along the walls, a startling mosaic of happiness that even I had never dreamed of being able to achieve. Alaric perched on my shoulder, arms around my neck and chubby legs dangling down my torso, my own arms wrapped around his waist forming a seat, his head held up high as we searched for the elusive Historia.

“I bet she’s hiding from us,” I whispered into Alaric’s ear, who giggled in response. “You know what we have to do, right?”

“Wha’ Mama Mir?” he batted his eyes innocently.

“Mommy is a special princess, we gotta call for her. You ready?” I took a deep breath, puffing out my chest as far as it could go while Alaric followed my example, grinning.

“Mommy! Mommy Historia!” We both shouted in unison, Alaric swallowing the “t” as we rounded the end of the hallway into the kitchen where a small blonde figure stood in front of the stovetop, a frilly pink apron around her waist, turning around to face us as we entered the kitchen.

“Oh you two are awake!” Historia exclaimed as I pulled her into a short kiss, Alaric still in my arms. When she pulled away from the embrace she reached on her toes to smooth his unruly bed hair. “It’s so early, I thought I’d have time to surprise you two with a special breakfast.”

“It’s alright, now you can have some help,” I chuckled as I set Alaric on the wooden counter, next to the steel wash basin.

“Ok then, Ymir I need you to go grab me the bag of flour, Alaric can you help me scoop this sugar?” Historia handed a little metal cup to Alaric as I moved to the cabinet on the right of the stove, reaching up to grab the sack of potato flour that sat on the top shelf.

“How much do you need, Sweetheart?” I asked my doting Historia. Her hair glistened gold as the early morning sun caught the on the strands, sending shimmers of precious metal across the floor and the glimmering countertops.

“Just 2 scoops.” She said as she gripped Alaric’s hand on the cup of sugar, dumping the contents into a ceramic bowl where a few other ingredients already lay.

I grabbed the scoop from inside the bag and scooped two cups into the ceramic bowl, on top of the sugar.

“So, what’re we makin’?” my hand snaked around her tiny waist.

“Pancakes. Ymir, I need you to go pour the milk into this bowl, Alaric, you and I get to crack the eggs.” Alaric clapped his hands in excitement.

Grabbing the milk off of the counter, I splashed some into the bowl while Historia held Alaric’s hands in hers as he cracked the egg shells, her dainty hands guiding his yolk-covered ones towards the bowl to drop in the precious treat. Afterwards directing their hands towards the wash bin to scrub off the gooey mess coating their fingers.

“Ok Ymir, if you can grab that spoon and begin mixing the batter...”

“Got it,” I cheerily replied as I grabbed the spoon and began beating the thick batter into submission. After a few seconds of pounding the milk into the flour, the batter lay lump free on the table, and me.

“Mama Mir made a mess!” Alaric giggled as Historia rolled her eyes and I grinned sheepishly at her.

“Ok you two, move away so I can go finish this up,” Historia said as she shooed us to the wooden bench table. I scooped up Alaric from the counter and moved him to the tabletop, where I leaned against the table while he sat next to me.

I leaned closely to whisper into Alaric’s ear, “don’t tell Mommy,” as I licked the batter off my hands, while Alaric covered his mouth to hide his peals of laughter.

At the counter, Historia moved the batter bowl to the wood stove, where a cast iron pan lay prepped for the batter that she poured smoothly on, a wooden spatula in hand as she waited to flip the golden goodness.

“Ymir! Don’t lick the batter off, go wash!” Historia scolded without even looking, my forearm froze at my mouth while Alaric pulled his hand away and his euphoric squeals escaped from their finger prison and filled the house with the warmest sensation, as if our cozy comforter had never been left behind on the bed and instead wrapped around us all. I trudged dramatically to the wash bin, the complete normality of the morning reaching into my heart and caressing it with the gentlest touch. For the first time in a very long time, I felt full.

 

I woke with a start in the darkness, my limbs severed off as I lay useless next to the sleeping lumps of Reiner and Bertholdt. Hot tears were flooding down my face and I couldn’t do anything for the agonizing ache in my heart as I lay in the unfamiliar landscape, the dream nothing but a speck of dust in the past and a desperate desire in the present. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs and hides*


	3. Borrowing Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha can't find a shirt that fits and Ymir just flips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes up for the last one

“Hey, Ymir, do you have an extra shirt lying around? I think mine shrunk…” Sasha asked from halfway across the dorm.

“No.” I replied curtly, to be honest I actually did have an extra shirt but I just didn’t feel like taking the effort to give it to Sasha. She could do with a little suffering anyways.

“Mikasa do you have one?”

I didn’t have to turn to know Mikasa’s silent glare was answer enough.

“It’s ok Sasha, I’ve got an extra.” A bell like voice rang out. I actually made the effort to turn from my bunk to see Christa handing a pristine white shirt to the brunette. I didn’t know why, but it bothered me. _They’re not even the same size_.

“Thanks Christa!” Sasha cheered as she stripped off her miniscule yellow cotton and pulled the button down on. I knew it before it even happened.

 _RIIIPP_.

Pearly buttons scattered the floor and shredded fabric hung from Sasha’s torso like a makeshift flag of surrender.

“Sasha! What the hell! You can’t just rip someone else’s shirt!” I fumed. Sasha looked around the dorm with a blank expression, fat tears garnering at her eyes.

“Christa I- I-,” she stammered in shock.

“Sasha, it’s just fine. Ymir! Calm down!” Christa scolded me as she comforted the tearful Sasha. I looked at the two, mouth agape. _How can she be so calm?_

I was about to continue when a prompt look from Christa shut my maw with an audible _clap_. The fury left a metallic tang on my tongue, even though I knew it was irrational to be so annoyed by Sasha’s ignorance.

“Here, Sasha, I have an extra one. We’re about the same size, so it should fit,” Mina piped up from the corner. _Why didn’t she say so earlier?_

Mina quickly grappled around her bunk before pulling out a white polo, handing it over to the distraught Sasha that Christa was still trying to comfort. Without really uncurling, Sasha managed to pull the white polo over her torso, the shirt fitting almost perfectly. _Why the hell did she even accept Christa’s shirt_.

I turned back to finish pulling on the wretched belts, my own infuriation at the scene making my hands shake, which meant the belts were now twice as hard to strap on.

 

  
"Connie, why aren't you wearing a shirt?" Armin asked from where he was sitting with his companions, Connie sitting just to the left of the constant trio, Sasha squeezing onto the end of the table.  
  
"It's too hot for clothing!" Connie projected.  
  
"There's still morning frost..." Armin pointed out.  
  
"That means nothing!" Connie nearly shouted, just as a shiver racked him, making him drop his mug of morning gruel all over the table.   
  
I snorted as I grabbed our breakfast and plopped into a chair next to Armin, pulling Christa down next to me.  
  
"Bullshit," I called him out.  
  
"No!" Connie insisted.  
  
I stared him down, which is easy when you're two heads taller than the baldy.  
  
Connie dropped his eyes to his spilled breakfast. "Ok, I couldn't find my shirt..." He finally conceded.  
  
I didn't even attempt to hold back my snorts of laughter as his face reddened.  
  
"Sasha, why are you wearing Mina's shirt?" Armin asked.  
  
"I think mine shrunk, it didn't fit."  
  
"How? It's still too cold to do that."  
  
"Really? But I couldn't even fit my shoulders in." Sasha looked up at Armin, confused.  
  
"Wasn't it the same shirt from yesterday?"  
  
"No it was yellow..." All of a sudden Sasha went stalk still, staring eyes bugged out and jaw hanging at the table.  
  
"Sasha are you ok?" Eren asked.  
  
Sasha clapped a hand over her mouth and shrunk into the table, her face beat red. All of us stared at her, confused.  
  
"Connie, I think I took your shirt..." Sasha barely whispered.  
  
A boisterous laugh escaped my mouth and a hiccupy giggle escaped Armin's tiny frame. Connie and Sasha both looked at each other with competing shades of scarlet.  
  
"Can I... Uh, have it back..?"  
  
"Yeah, sure," Sasha's agreement came out an octave higher than usual. There was an awkward cause before she quietly said, "I'll just go grab it."  
  
Her embarrassment made her clumsy, and standing up nearly took the whole table with her, spilling the remains of everyone's breakfast.  
  
"Eek!" Christa squealed. A hot mug of brown gruel had spilled all over her crisp white front.  
  
I shot up, pulling Christa away from the still dripping hot liquid.  
  
"Sasha! Watch it!" I nearly shrieked.  
  
"Ymir!" Christa scolded as I glared down at Sasha  
  
"Let's get you changed," I hissed at Christa, attempting to murder Sasha with my eyes.  
  
"Why don't I go-" Sasha began shakily.  
  
"Don't!" The table shouted in unison.  
  
"Sasha, why don't you stay put. I can grab Connie's shirt." Christa said, sweetly despite everything.  
  
Sasha obliged and sat back down, slumping in her seat. Christa started to get up to leave back for the dorms while I followed.  
  
"Ymir, you don't have to come with me."  
  
"You need a new shirt."  
  
She smiled and hugged my arm, "you really are kind."  
  
I shrugged it off, but I knew my blush was furious; one of the few moments I thanked the goddesses for being too tall and tan for her to see. In the dorm, my shirt was 3 sizes too large for her, the brown sleeves hanging down to her knees and the collar exposing more skin than I had expected. _Not that I mind._  
  
She was utterly and completely, gracefully adorable, rolling up the sleeves until they were manageable and grabbed Connie's shirt from where Sasha had discarded it on the floor. I followed her out, back to the cafeteria.  
  
I can't say it didn't dawn on me that Christa would need my shirt until she found a spare, and I also can't say that I don't find an extreme sense of pleasure in seeing her wear it.  
  
 _I’m going to enjoy training this week._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. A Secret Kept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nighttime conversations

The chilly evening spring breeze reflected the cold of the stars hanging above us. As Christa’s hair rustled in the tender breath of air, she shifted to face me from her resting position on my chest while my hands stayed tangled in her flaxen hair.

“Ymir, why are we out here? We could get caught,” she remarked nervously.

“Because it’s nice out.”

“It’s past curfew…”

I snorted, “Okay, and your point?”

She glared at me with her sapphire eyes but didn’t argue any further. It had been hell to convince her to come onto the rooftops to begin with, now that we were finally here there was no way I was going to let her back out.

“What did you do before training?” Christa asked, catching me off guard.

“Huh?” I replied intelligently.

“What did you do, before all this?” she gestured to the training grounds beneath us. It was a strange question, even from her. She was hiding something, so why she’d ask the very questions she feared in the first place baffled me.

As I stared at her, completely puzzled at the situation she grew impatient with my silence, “I mean it Ymir, I want to know.”

“Why do you want to know the very thing you keep a secret?” _I had not meant to say that. I had not meant to say that._

“What?” she stared at me incredulously, jolting into a sitting position. A mixture of fear and anger washed across her face. _I definitely had not meant to say that._

“Christa, you keep your past as hidden as mine, so why do you care?” Whatever was controlling my mouth definitely had no intention of letting me off the hook. Honestly, I was becoming a little frustrated.

“That’s not fair…” she started.

“No, what’s not fair is asking me what you don’t want anyone asking you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” I pressed.

“I just… I wanted to know…” I looked at her expectantly, “why you’d be so willing to give up your life and fight titans when you don’t care about humanity,” she finished, eyes darting to the shingles we were haphazardly laying on.

I sighed, throwing my head back up to look at the star encrusted night sky. “Christa, how about this, when I tell you why I am willing to die for humanity, then you will own your secrets. Alright?”

She sat quiet for a few moments, precariously perched on the angle of the roof. “Alright,” she said quietly, before gently resting her blonde head on my chest again, nestling against my warm body.

I resumed stroking her hair again as we both gazed at the sky, feeling miniscule amongst the infinite of the universe, and wondering just what forces allowed us to be. It was a calm night, not a sound to be heard except the snores of Sasha and the roar of Reiner in the other barracks. We were quiet throughout the night, but the lingering scent of the near fight weighed between us and I knew this was a conversation far from over. I was going to have to tell her. I was going to have to lose her.

_I don’t want to._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to god this won't be all angst


End file.
